


Tastes Like You Only Sweeter

by gotatheory



Series: Tastes Like You Only Sweeter Verse [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Little John, Background Tinker Bell, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Love From OQ 2018, M/M, Minor Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Tinker Bell, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Valentine's Day, first time threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 19:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13747437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotatheory/pseuds/gotatheory
Summary: If there is one holiday Regina hates above all others, it’s Valentine’s Day.





	Tastes Like You Only Sweeter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvilTini](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=EvilTini).



> This is a gift for EvilTini for the Love From OQ Valentine's Day Exchange. I'm so sorry it is so terribly late! I hope it was worth the wait.

If there is one holiday Regina hates above all others, it’s Valentine’s Day. As if that even _counts_ as a holiday. She despises it, not because she’s the cliched single girl in college (in fact, she’s not single at all; though she and Robin have yet to define their relationship, they’ve been seeing a lot of each other in the past few months, certainly enough to call it _dating_ ), but because it’s just so… fake. A bunch of false sentiment and men desperately trying to pretend like they care more on this one day of the year than any other. It’s ridiculous, because she doesn’t need Robin to take her out to dinner or give her chocolates in a heart shaped box or a plush toy on February 14th to know he has feelings for her.

She doesn’t much like to think about what those feelings are, because they weren’t supposed to have feelings. This thing between them was supposed to be uncomplicated, it was supposed to be a one night stand. Just something to work the tension off so that they didn’t keep arguing over every little thing in their shared sociology class.

Somehow, one night became two, became three, became “let’s meet for coffee” or “let’s have drinks,” and now they’re… _something_. Dating, but without saying that outright. Dinner dates, study dates, even impromptu things like, “Oh, there’s this event happening on campus, wanna go?” and the answer is somehow always, “Yes.”

That was last semester; now the class they share is Chem, a circumstance that had Regina side-eying him with equal parts annoyance and amusement. He hardly needed the extra science credits for his History/Education double major. She can only imagine how he managed to worm his way into a junior-level chemistry class with just a couple of freshman courses under his belt.

(Truth be told, she can imagine it very well. Those dimples and sea blue eyes could charm anyone, including the dean of the department, she’s sure.)

The point is, between a one night stand turning into several turning into _this_ , Regina still doesn’t give a damn about Valentine’s Day. She doesn’t want to go to dinner in a restaurant stuffed to the gills with other couples celebrating a fake holiday or attend any of the Valentine’s parties happening on campus. So when Robin asks about it as they’re _hanging out_ in her apartment, she frowns at him over her shoulder as she’s slipping into a t-shirt.

“Do _you_ want to do anything for Valentine’s Day?” she parrots back at him, though she’s sure her tone, furrowed brows, and scowl made her own opinion clear.

Robin’s scoffing little laugh makes it clear. “Guess not,” he says, scratching at his stubbled chin. “I was just thinking…”

“Always dangerous,” she quips, sitting back down on the bed now that she’s got her panties back on. Robin has made no such moves to tidy himself up, only shifting so that he’s propped up on her pillows while the bedsheet covers his bare lower half.

That’s dangerous, too, despite the fact that they’ve just finished fucking. Something about him all sex-disheveled, his sandy hair messy from her hands running through it, sweat drying on his chest, it all has her starting to run hot again.

He ignores her quip, though he smirks as he notices her gaze running over his body. “What I was saying is that I thought it might be nice to have dinner together on Valentine’s Day,” he finishes his thought, but it doesn’t alleviate her frown. “If you wanted to, I need to try and make some reservations, since it’s in a couple of weeks.”

“Why?” she asks, and for a moment, his eyebrows raise, the corners of his mouth turn down.

“Because I like having dinner with you, and it is Valentine’s Day. It’s not unusual for two people who are romantically involved to go out on that day,” he points out, seemingly bemused by her reaction, something that only causes her frown to morph into a scowl.

“It’s just another day,” she replies with a dismissive shrug. “Another Wednesday, at that, in the middle of a school week. Why do we need to go out on a Wednesday when we’ll have things to do, like homework and study?”

Robin blinks at her, staring at her as if he’s trying to solve some sort of puzzle. “I know you’re obsessed with getting good grades, but one night off of homework or studying would hardly decimate your GPA,” he says, pausing a long moment before clearing his throat. “Regina, you know if you don’t want to do _this_ anymore” — he gestures with his arm, encompassing himself and the bed — “all you have to do is say so.”

Her eyes widen, her mouth dropping open. “What? No,” she says, shaking her head insistently. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Well, I’m not sure what to think,” he says, sitting up properly now. His expression is serious, but Regina can’t help but be distracted by the way the sheet has bunched at his hips now.

(God, she’s not some hormonal teenager. She doesn’t know what it is about this man that has her so easily turned on as memories flood her mind: his mouth hanging open in a gasp, her nails digging into his chest and shoulders as she rolled her hips over his, her hair falling into her eyes as her head dips down — damn, she wants him all over again, but now is not the time.)

She’s been silent for too long, and he’s taken it entirely the wrong way, standing up now and saying, “It’s all right, Regina, really. We never really defined what this was, besides having fun.” That snaps her out of her lust-induced haze, especially once he’s pulled on his briefs and pants.

“No, Robin, it’s not like that,” she says, her heart pounding for different reasons now. “It has nothing to do with you.” She sighs, drags a hand through her hair, pushing it back off her forehead (she’s in desperate need of a brush, it’s all tangled from Robin’s wandering hands). “I don’t like Valentine’s Day, okay? It’s just not a thing to me, so I see no need to go out and celebrate it.”

He pauses with his shirt pulled halfway down his torso, staring at her as if she’s completely lost her mind. “Really?” he says, letting go of his shirt so that the material falls the rest of the way, covering up his body.

Distantly, she’s aware that the chances of a second round have rapidly dwindled during the course of this conversation. Yet another reason to hate Valentine’s Day, as far as she’s concerned.

“So you don’t want to go out to dinner with me, because you hate Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes,” Regina says, exasperated. “If I didn’t want to see you anymore, do you think I would have slept with you just now?”

Robin shrugs one of his shoulders. “Could have been one last pity fuck before the brush off.”

“You really think I’d do that?” she asks, offended, her brow knitting over something incredibly different than her opinions on fake holidays.

“It’s not like we’re anything serious,” he says, shrugging again. One hand reaches behind him to cradle the back of his neck, rubbing at the nape. “I would hope you wouldn’t do something like that, but we’ve never really said what we’re doing besides having fun.”

Oh no, she does not want to be having _this_ conversation right now, on the heels of her telling him she doesn’t want to spend Valentine’s Day with him. The “define what we are” conversation, when she absolutely does not want to think too hard about that. She should change the subject, say something, anything, maybe she could pull off her shirt and distract him with the promise of more sex — anything to stop this conversation from happening.

She’s been quiet for too long, Robin is about to speak again, but he looks away from her at the sound of her apartment door opening.

A voice calls out her name, and _Thank God_ , she has never been so happy to hear her roommate.

Quickly, she jumps up, reaching for a pair of yoga pants and searching for her bra. “I’m in my room, Tink,” she calls back. “Be right out!” She shoots what she hopes is an apologetic glance at Robin, mouthing the word _Sorry_ at him before she’s finished dressing and out the door.

~ | ~

Pixie Bell Tinker is a nice enough person. Robin’s met her on plenty of occasions, and aside from being cursed with a terrible name by her parents and being a bit of a busybody, she’s never been anything but kind to him. Except right now, Robin is damning her entire existence for her awful timing. It’s been months since they first slept together (a night he remembers well, a half-drunken one night stand that fortunately turned out to happen more than that) and they’ve had plenty of no-sex interactions since then, and yet, he still refers to her as “his friend Regina.” Well, no, he doesn’t, because no one talks like that, but the point is he’s not referring to her as his _girl_ friend.

He thinks he’d really, really like to call her that because, as it turns out, he really, really likes Regina Mills.

He’d never have thought that from the day they met in class and argued the entire hour, even with her stunning good looks, and yet, here they are: him desperately wanting her to be his Valentine and she completely against the idea.

And that’s fine, really it is, but he’d been about to bring up the suggestion of exclusivity, that maybe they could finally stop being friends with benefits and start being something more. Just for Regina’s roommate to come home and interrupt. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything else to her before she was dressed (and that’s a damn shame, too, he rather enjoys her when she’s wearing nothing but a shirt and panties) and abandoning him in her bedroom.

He doesn’t want to push her into anything she doesn’t want to do, but at the same time, he wants to know where they stand. Wants to know if his feelings are one-sided, if all he is to her is a warm body or someone to pass the time with when no one else is around. (He thinks that cannot possibly be true, not with how much time they spend together, the texts they exchange, the late night phone calls when her anxiety keeps her awake, the lunches and dinners and study dates…) It can’t possibly mean nothing to her, and yet when she said she didn’t want to do anything for Valentine’s Day, all he could imagine was this moment would be their last. That now would be the time she told him it was fun while it lasted, and now it’s over.

She wasn’t supposed to mean this much to him, he never thought it would turn into this that very first night at some party, when there was just enough whiskey in him to get his courage up. He’d approached her, and it was just supposed to be a bit of a laugh, a challenge to see if he could charm her more than he did in their sociology class. He’d rather enjoyed arguing with her, gotten a little thrill at riling her up (and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about riling her in other ways, even mid-debate, thinking about how lovely that angered flush would look if she were flushed for _other_ reasons).

Robin sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. He knows that he needs to head out there with Regina and Tink, that it’s time to take his leave really, now that her roommate is back.

As he’s walking out, he overhears Tink teasing Regina, “Did you get a lot of studying done?” He smirks a little, comes to stand behind her as she’s telling Tink _Yeah_ with a scowl on her face.

“What about you?” Regina asks, earning a confused head tilt in response. “Learn a lot about social work while you were off with Killian?”

At that, Tink throws her head back and laughs, tossing her a saucy wink and a, “Oh yeah,” that has Robin’s nose scrunching up in distaste. He really doesn’t want to imagine those two together, not when Killian is one of his best mates.

“Speaking of dates, what are you two going to do for Valentine’s Day?”

Regina’s spine goes ramrod straight, the tension radiating off of her, and Robin instinctively takes a step back from her. He’s not crowding her, not really, but even being within arm’s reach feels too close now.

“Oh, we haven’t really decided on anything yet,” she says finally, not coldly but with a fair bit of neutrality.

“Might want to figure it out soon,” Tink replies, meeting Robin’s eyes over her shoulder as she rummages in their refrigerator. Her expression is one of disbelief, but he quickly diverts his attention to a really fascinating blank space on the wall. “Considering the big day is in two weeks.”

“What about you? Killian tell you his plans?” Robin deflects, unable to keep his gaze from lingering on Regina. She’s still tense, her hands twisting nervously in front of her, and he hates this whole situation. Wishes they could have just talked this out in her bedroom without interruption, no matter how it would have ended.

(In tears, he thinks, if this is how anxious she is. His tears, most likely.)

“He’s been dropping some hints. He keeps bringing up his boat—”

“You mean his father’s boat,” Regina scoffs with a derisive eye roll. “And really, a date on a boat in the middle of February in Maine? You’ll freeze your ass off.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something to do to keep warm.” Tink’s naughty giggle turns into a full on laugh when Regina makes a face and goes _Ewww_. “Oh spare me the fake disgust. Like you and Robin were really studying chemistry in there.”

Robin can’t resist the opening, taking the risk to wrap his arm loosely around Regina’s shoulders and smirk. “I’d say there were some chemical reactions happening,” he says, and thanks his lucky stars when Regina snorts, lightly jabbing him in his side.

Tink just rolls her eyes. “God, get a room, you two.”

“We had one until someone decided to come home,” Regina replies, that tension in her breaking. She even lets Robin keep his arm around her, lazy and loose, leaving her plenty of room to move away without making it a big thing.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says with a dismissive hand wave. “Anyway, if you’re looking for something to do for Valentine’s, David and Mary Margaret are going to throw a house party. I’m sure it would be dreadfully boring, but Ruby and Will are helping them. So there should at least be booze.”

Robin groans. He had forgotten David talking about that, and though it wasn’t officially a party their fraternity was throwing, as his fraternity brother he did have some obligation to go. Not that he wouldn’t mind a good party — and Will knows how to entertain, at least, even if David and his girlfriend do not — but the prospect of going without Regina is hardly enticing.

Judging by the expression on Regina’s face, she is not anymore swayed by the thought of this party than she was by dinner earlier.

“We’ll see,” she murmurs in the most noncommittal voice possible, and Robin sighs.

He loves this woman, he’s certain of it, but she is exasperating.

~ | ~

The rest of the week passes without incident, and though Regina expects Robin to bring up their interrupted conversation at any given moment, he never does. She suspects it’s because he’s waiting for another opportune time, trying not to ambush her with it, but whenever they’re together and he doesn’t, she spends the entire date (not a date, not a date, she tells herself) anxiously waiting for the shoe to drop. He hasn’t brought up Valentine’s Day, either, even though she knows that he’s going to go to David and Mary Margaret’s party. He wouldn’t disappoint David by not showing up, would want to support his frat brother in every way he could, including making an appearance at a party without his not-girlfriend.

(God, not-girlfriend? Really, Regina?)

She hates this, she really does, hates that they’ve ruined their easy, casual thing with _feelings_.

It was never supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be something she did for the hell of it, a little fling with the hot, irritating frat boy from her class. Of course it could never be so simple.

She doesn’t know why it means so much to her, keeping him at arm’s length (so to speak, because clearly she has failed in this effort). She’s been in relationships before, it’s not as if she’s against them. But for some reason, thinking about Robin like that scares her in a way that dating Daniel and Graham and Mal did not. Truthfully, she doesn’t want to examine it more closely than that, even though she can’t get it out of her mind.

He knows it, too, she’s sure of it. He’s always looking at her, studying her, so goddamn intently and she can’t stand it (he’s so _intent_ when he gazes at her, and she wonders if he looks at his history books with the same reverence — except she doesn’t have to wonder, she knows, she’s seen how he lights up when he gets to be in his element). She suspects that’s why he hasn’t said anything yet, why he hasn’t approached her about it, and she doesn’t want to think about what that means, either.

She just wants to stop thinking, really, wants to forget it all ever happened. Wants to enjoy being with him like she used to, wants her heart to stop feeling like it’s splitting in two with every inch of distance and awkwardness her mind tries to put between them.

So naturally, it’s as she’s trying to puzzle out a way to stop feeling torn apart that Robin says her name, a leading _Regina_ when they’re at his place. They don’t come here often — he shares a small apartment with two of his frat brothers, and honestly, Regina much prefers her apartment to the mini-frat house/bachelor pad he has going on. But Tink had wanted space (supposedly to study for a project, but she has her doubts), so they’re in his apartment, in his kitchen.

He’s quite the cook when he wants to be, nothing too impressive but… sweet. Kind. It’s dinner time and he’s fixing breakfast, a proper English breakfast he says, something he does when he wants to impress her.

That should have been her first clue.

She freezes at the sound of her name, all that fun and careless flirting they were doing dissolving, leaving a chill under her skin. When she doesn’t respond, he looks at her over his shoulder, his face too serious, and he says, trying a touch too hard to sound casual, “We haven’t really spoken since… you know,” and she almost barks a half-laugh at that, because yes, she _knows_ all too well, but he’s not finished, “I thought maybe we could talk. About what we didn’t get to talk about.”

She wants to run, everything in her body is tensed and poised to spring, her mind supplying the layout of the apartment so she can plot her escape. It’s not a big apartment, and it’s an open space; they’re in the kitchen, her back to the front door but she could run straight for it. The only thing she’d have to watch out for is the large ottoman that tends to be in the center of their living space, but she thinks she could vault it if it came to that.

When she was a child, she used to ride horses, it had been her obsession as a girl and she’d been convinced she was going to make that her entire life. She was going to be an equestrian, and an Olympic medalist, and all sorts of fanciful dreams that got dashed the moment Daniel broke her heart. She hasn’t been on a horse since the summer she was seventeen, had abruptly given up that part of her life when Daniel told her he was moving across the country to go to college as they sat on a bale of hay in the stables.

It’s been a long time since then, but Regina still remembers the adrenaline. The wind in her hair, and the way she felt like an extension of Rocinante as he ran, the power and rush of emotion as he jumped. Right now, sitting on a stool in Robin’s kitchen, she thinks this must be how Rocinante felt every time right before he would leap, and she’s prepared to tap into it. Prepared to bolt away from Robin, away from this, away from every emotion she has no desire to experience again.

Robin sighs, and it’s only then that she realizes he’s been watching her. She doesn’t know when he turned around to look at her properly, but he has, and she knows he’s read every thought running through her head.

He knows her too well.

Everything abruptly turns; the icy fear shivering up her spine reverses, runs hot as a fire catches in its place. She’s not afraid anymore, that energy converting into something else, something more productive, more destructive. She doesn’t stand, but she crosses her around her chest, steeling every bone in her body for what’s to come.

Just like that, she’s gone from _flight_ to _fight_.

“Oh?” she speaks finally, arching an eyebrow at him in barely concealed annoyance. “What’s that?”

Robin frowns, his eyes roaming her form, and she knows he’s caught on to the sudden mood shift. As expected, he says, “When we were in your room last week, talking about Valentine’s Day.”

“I thought we were through talking about that,” she retorts, her voice surprisingly measured and controlled considering how her heart is still pounding in her chest. The fear might have left, but the adrenaline hasn’t, it’s pulsing inside of her, stewing, waiting. “I don’t want to go out on Valentine’s. There. We talked about it. Done.”

She’s about to finish with _Now let’s have breakfast_ but he shakes his head, huffs out a little breath. “That wasn’t what I meant, Regina,” he says with an unyielding amount of patience dripping from every word. “The other thing. The thing about us and what we’re doing.”

“We’re having breakfast, aren’t we?” she says, wishing he’d get the hint and drop it. He’s not an idiot; he knows she wants him to stop.

He doesn’t.

“Regina, please,” he murmurs, so gentle, so patient even now. Even as she pushes and pushes.

He’ll break first, she knows he will. She can do this.

“Robin, can’t we just eat and discuss this later? I thought we were going to have fun today. It’s Friday, and neither of us have anything we have to do right now...” She sounds a bit too whiny for her tastes, almost desperate, but it’s the last chance to salvage this.

For a moment, she thinks she’s won. That he’s going to drop it, because he’s staring at her, blue eyes soft and warm and curious. He can see her annoyance, her frustration, and he’s going to let it go, for her.

His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head. “No, Regina,” he says, putting down the spatula he’s been holding this whole time, breakfast officially forgotten. “We’re going to talk about this because if we don’t do it now, we’re never going to do it.”

She scowls, the heated anger flaring. “Well maybe I don’t _want_ to talk about it,” she snaps, standing up so quickly the stool rattles but doesn’t fall over, allowing her to continue in her fit of temper. “Maybe the reason we haven’t talked about it is because I don’t have anything to say.”

Robin’s scowling too now, his hands resting on the countertop, knuckles white as he curls his fingers into fists. “Really?” he says, those blue eyes she adores suddenly hard as he stares at her. “You have nothing to say about the two of us? About our relationship?”

She levels her gaze at him, refusing to falter as she pronounces, “No. Because we don’t have a relationship. I don’t know what you thought this was, but it was just… a release. You were attractive and a good lay, a nice stress reliever to get the endorphins going. I’m sorry if you thought there was more to it than that, but this was never... It was never going to be anything serious.”

Robin blinks at her as if she’s grown a second head, but she doesn’t care. “I don’t think you mean that, Regina,” he says slowly, as if she’s an animal he has to be skittish around lest she bolt.

Regina doesn’t bolt. She bites.

“I do mean that,” she tells him tartly, reaching for her purse as she says it. “I can see how you might have gotten confused, with all this—” she gestures to encompass the breakfast, but also all the time they’ve spent together, “—but none of it was supposed to make you think this was more than just sex. I apologize for leading you on, if that’s what happened.”

“Regina,” he tries again, but she shakes her head.

“No, Robin, I think it’s best if I just leave,” she says, purse retrieved, and she snatches her coat off the sofa. “I’m sorry for all this, truly. I never meant to…” She finds she can’t quite force than sentence out, and that anger is beginning to burn out, to leave her aching over what she’s done, so she needs to leave. Now.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and then she’s out the door.

~ | ~

He watches her leave, completely dumbfounded, sausages and eggs and beans forgotten on the stove behind him, cooling as he stares at a closed door. He doesn’t know what went wrong, except he does. He knew she would be obstinate and not want to define their relationship, he’s gotten to know her so well since they started sleeping together, but he never thought it’d come to this. He thought they’d fight and then end up in bed, what usually happens when they argue.

Instead, she walked out, and like a complete idiot, he had watched her go. Hadn’t even tried to stop her, beyond saying her name, and now she was just… gone.

For a melodramatic moment, he thought about how he’d never see her again, before remembering they share a class together. A light seems to go off, a last-gasp desperate thought that he could talk to her then, but he knows her. He knows she won’t want to speak to him. She made that much clear to him.

Robin groans, burying his face in his hands as he stands at the countertop. He should have left it well enough alone, but he wanted… He wanted more with her. He wanted to introduce her as his girlfriend, and go out on proper dates without making excuses, and tell her he loved her (he did that once, when he was buried inside of her, had gasped out _Fuck, I love you_ and she had frozen beneath him until he had awkwardly covered it with _I love your pussy_ ).

And she never wanted it at all, apparently.

(He doesn’t believe that, not really, not truly. He saw the fear in her eyes before she got all frosty on him, before her defenses kicked in.)

“Sorry, mate, I don’t mean to interrupt—”

Robin looks up, somehow managed to not hear the door open at all, didn’t even notice his roommate John coming in. He hasn’t moved an inch from where he’s at, the food completely forgotten behind him.

“You okay?” John asks, glancing around the apartment. “I thought Regina was supposed to be here.”

“She was here,” he says, a picture of sullenness as he sits there on his stool, cold breakfast behind him, still in the pans.

“Then why do you look like somebody died? You’re usually a lot more cheerful after her visits.” John wanders over to the kitchen, studying the untouched food. “You, uh, finished with this?”

“What?” He looks over his shoulder, then waves a dismissive hand. “Oh. Yeah. Help yourself.”

He does with a quick _Thanks_ , reaching for the paper plates and loading up. “So what happened with Regina? Have a fight?”

“Something like that,” Robin mutters, scrubbing his hand over his face.

“Well,” John plops onto a stool, a mite precariously considering his girth, “I’m sure you’ll be over it in no time. You two always do this.”

Robin shakes his head, wishes it was that simple. “No, not this time. I really buggered it all up,” he says, and John looks up from his plateful of eggs, his eyebrows raised questioningly. So Robin explains about how he pushed, how he wanted to be more but she did not. “And she walked out.”

“Oh. Man, I’m sorry.” The sentiment is sincere, Robin’s sure, but it loses something when one of his best mates is chewing on a mouthful of beans on toast. “You think that’s it or that she’ll come around?”

“I dunno,” Robin sighs, head in his hands once more. “She was really upset.”

“Give her a few days,” John offers, punctuating his words with his fork. “I bet you she’ll cool off and by the time you see her in class on Tuesday, she’ll be fine.”

Robin bites his lip, still seeing her cold, hardened gaze in his mind’s eye. He hopes that John is right, but doubt wraps around his heart like a cape, only bringing a chill instead of warmth.

The rest of the weekend passes without a word from Regina, not that he reaches out to her, either. He avoids her, easy to do when he knows her routine so well, and that extends to avoiding any of their mutual friends, for the most part. He does run into Tink and Killian when he’s grabbing an early lunch, only braving the on-campus Starbucks because Regina won’t be there. She has class at this time, leaving him free to get a pastry and some coffee. He could have done without the run in with her roommate, but at least Tink doesn’t seem to be taking sides in their argument (he’s still not quite thinking of it as a break up).

By the time the day is over, he still hasn’t seen or heard from Regina. At least he has class with her tomorrow. He’ll talk to her, apologize, at least try and salvage their friendship. No matter what she says, they were friends, and he was willing to hold onto that even without the benefits.

Tuesday morning comes along with the chemistry class, and he’s at his usual seat, bouncing with excitement. He sits right next to Regina, so she’ll have no choice but to give him at least a moment of her time. Long enough for him to apologize for pushing her. That’s all he wants.

He watches the clock, checking his phone repeatedly, counting down the minutes... Regina is exceedingly punctual, will sometimes show up to a class as much as ten minutes early, and yet here it is, five ‘til and she’s nowhere in sight. He’s worried, especially when the professor enters the room, a minute left before class starts.

He catches sight of her sneaking in just before the door shuts, and she ducks into an empty seat near the door instead of finding her usual one.

Well then. Message received.

~ | ~

Regina feels Robin’s eyes burning into her throughout their entire chemistry class, but she ignores it, dutifully taking notes and already planning how she’ll skip out on the lab portion this evening just in case it involves working with a partner. It’s childish, she knows, but she hasn’t spoken to him since Friday and she doesn’t plan to start just yet. Her heart aches too much at the thought of it, of looking into his eyes and seeing the hurt she put there, or hearing his voice right now. She’s weak for his voice, that accent, and she just cannot handle him yet.

Especially when everything in her body is telling her she made the wrong decision.

So she takes her notes, and plans to come down with a sudden illness to explain her absence in lab, and when the professor wraps up class, she bolts out the door and out of the building before Robin could possibly try to reach her.

And if she swipes at her eyes at any potential wetness gathering there, at least she’s moving quickly enough that no one would notice.

Valentine’s Day comes, a day she finds she’s dreading even more than usual. Tink has been walking on eggshells enough over the past week since her argument with Robin, her behavior only intensifying as the ridiculous non-holiday got nearer and nearer. No matter how Regina protests, Tink just won’t understand or accept that she wouldn’t have had a date anyway, even if she hadn’t had a falling out with Robin.

“It’s just not my thing, Tink,” she tries explaining for the fiftieth time. “I don’t do Valentine’s. Robin knew that. So nothing has changed, I was never going out.”

Tink is frowning even as she applies her fake eyelashes, something that seems rather dangerous in Regina’s opinion. She wishes she’d just focus on preparing for her date with Killian instead of pestering her about her own lack of a date.

“I think you should really consider coming to the party,” Tink tells her, even turning away from her reflection to look at her. “After we have dinner, Killian and I are coming back here for a bit, and then heading over. You could come with, have a bit of fun, get a little drunk…”

“Oh yes, I should go to a party thrown by one of Robin’s fraternity brothers. It’s not as if I’ve been avoiding him recently; I’m sure he won’t be there at all to support David and Mary Margaret’s stupid party.”

“It’ll be a big party, you’ll never even see each other!” Tink protests. “C’mon, Regina, at least consider it for five seconds before you shoot it down.”

She raises an eyebrow, begins counting out, “One Mississippi… Two Mississippi…,” and when she gets to five, she says, “Five seconds up. I’m not going.”

“Really, Regina?” she scowls at her, but Regina isn’t fazed by her obvious frustration. “What do you have against having some fun? It’s just a party.”

“A Valentine’s Day party. Thrown by one of Robin’s fraternity brothers. Robin, my — the guy I just stopped seeing. Why would I go to that? I wouldn’t have fun; I’d be miserable. And I’d run into Robin, and he’d want to talk again, and probably apologize because that’s the sort of guy he is, even though _I’m_ the one that—”

Regina abruptly stops talking, realizing she might be saying too much if Tink’s scowl morphing into a decidedly more interested expression is anything to go by. “I’m not going,” she finishes, and since she was in Tink’s room as she got ready, she stands up to leave. “Have fun with Killian. I’ll be in my room.”

She retreats, because that’s what it is even if she doesn’t want to think about it that way. She’s not some dog, tucking her tail between her legs and running away, except she is, a little bit, no matter how she hates it. She’s hiding, avoiding her problems, avoiding one big major problem: Robin.

Fuck. She can’t do it forever. She can’t give up that chem class, especially not because she had a fight with her — her what? That’s the problem, isn’t it, the question that started it all.

She flops onto her bed belly-first, burying her head in her comforter and groaning in annoyance, frustration, a myriad of emotions swirling through her. She’s barely aware of the door closing behind Tink, even though she’s made sure to shut it loud enough that she could hear it.

She is not going to go to that stupid party. Absolutely not. It wouldn’t fix anything, it’d only make it worse.

Regina pushes herself off the bed and walks over to her closet, pulling the door open and staring at the contents inside.

~ | ~

Robin loves a good party, like most college males in a fraternity. Especially ones thrown by his brothers, and this one counts as that even though it’s a joint effort between David and his girlfriend (and supplemented by Will and Ruby, two people who really know how to party). Mary Margaret is, for lack of a better description, absolutely loaded; her father is the president of the university and as such has provided her with a rented house all her own, with too much space and too many rooms for one young woman.

But it makes it perfect for a house party, all that space and all that money to finance a fully stocked bar. Robin’s almost surprised that Mary Margaret didn’t insist on hiring a DJ just for the party, but she’s got a kickass sound system that Will seems to have hijacked the moment he got here.

It’s a great time, Robin is sure of it, but he’s sitting in a corner with a beer instead. He’s not sulking, he’d be very frank about that if anyone were to ask, except okay, yes, he’s sulking a little, all by his lonesome in this corner of the room as the party-goers mingle.

He’s not thinking about Regina. He’s not, really, he’s trying very hard not to, but of course that’s a surefire way to think about it, to keep her on his mind. Everything reminds him of her: he spotted a brunette in the crowd that was about her height and immediately thought _Regina_ , or he thought he smelled her perfume, or when he saw someone carrying the brand of beer she drinks. Everything, every little thing, and it stifles him.

He thinks, perhaps, he shouldn’t have come.

“Why so glum, Locksley,” an all-too-familiar voice teases him, shifting him from his maudlin thoughts to something more annoyed. Keith Nottingham stands before him, nursing his own beer, his characteristic smirk locked firmly in place. “Didn’t they tell you it’s a party?”

He’s one of his brothers, but he’s always had a more antagonistic relationship with him. Not outright hatred, more a clash of personalities, of tempers. Something about that man just needles at him, and he wants to poke him back, prod the bear and entice it into a tantrum.

“I’m not in the mood, Nottingham,” he scowls, unable to work up much heat. He’s just tired, tired of being hung up on Regina, on wishing he could make it better when she won’t even come to class. While he’d usually jump at the chance to take his mind off of his worries with a good argument, he doesn’t have the energy for it right now.

“You were really serious about that girl, weren’t you?” Keith says, not quite disapprovingly but there’s an edge that Robin doesn’t know how to place. He doesn’t answer him, not that Keith seems to mind. He takes a long pull from his beer, swipes his tongue across his upper lip. “Having trouble getting her off your mind, hmm?”

Robin’s brow knits as he looks up at the other man. To put them on more even footing, he stands up, though Keith still has the height advantage on him. “I thought we said we wouldn’t do this anymore,” he murmurs, holding his gaze.

“ _You_ said that,” he replies, raising his eyebrows in mock innocence. “I agreed with you at the time, because you were getting serious about Regina.”

“And you were chasing Marian,” Robin points out, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he intended. There’s no love lost between him and Keith; it was a way to pass the time and explore something new (for Keith; Robin’s known he’s liked men since before college, having experimented as a teenager). “How’d that go?”

Keith is the one scowling now, terse as he says, “Do you really want to talk about that right now?”

And no, Robin doesn’t. He’s not sure what he really wants, except to not think for a little while, and well, this seems as good an opportunity as any. He brings his beer up to his lips, sucking down the remaining drops and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Perhaps a little suggestively, if the way Keith’s eyes track the motion is any indication.

“I’m going to the kitchen to get another,” he says, wiggling the bottle in the air to demonstrate its emptiness. “Want to come?”

He drinks from his own cup, finishes it off in one long gulp that has Robin’s gaze drawn to the lines of his neck, the bobbing of his throat as he swallows. Robin bites his lip, and Keith grins smugly at him as he lowers the cup, his own eyes dark with interest.

They don’t make it to the kitchen. They’ve barely made it into the hallway before Robin mutters _Fuck it_ and reaches out for Keith, a hand curling around the back of his neck and pulling him down into a bruising kiss. Keith makes a noise of surprise, muffled as it is by the insistent press of Robin’s lips to his. He recovers quickly, his hands coming up to grip Robin’s shoulders, steadying himself. It’s Keith that parts his lips, his tongue swirling against Robin’s to coax his mouth open. Robin lets him deepen the kiss, doesn’t even mind when he pushes him back until he’s against the wall.

The hallway is empty despite the bustle of the party, and Robin’s going to take advantage of it. He’s going to kiss Keith, or let Keith kiss him, right here, going to tangle his hand in his short hair and urge him to tilt his head, changing the angle of the kiss and sweeping his own tongue into Keith’s mouth. He tastes like beer and stale cigarettes, not the most attractive combination and yet Robin can’t stop.

He’s single, he’s been single despite being with Regina. He might as well enjoy it properly now.

He kisses Keith until he runs out of air, and even then he only breaks it long enough to suck some oxygen into his lungs before he dives in for more. They’re impossibly close now, Keith using his height to keep Robin pinned to the wall, and fuck, Robin’s forgotten what this could be like.

The undeniable masculinity of it all, the hard planes of Keith’s body against his, the feel of his slightly chapped lips, the roughness of his hands. It makes Robin’s head swim, has him pushing harder against Keith, trying to get as close as possible, to pull him in further. He claws at him, a hand sliding down his back, groping his ass.

Keith groans into his mouth and Robin wants him to make that noise again. To follow through on that endeavor, he kisses down his jaw, finds the spot just underneath that has Keith shivering against him.

“Fuck,” he gasps, and then he makes that noise again as Robin nips at his throat. He’s surrendered control momentarily, letting Robin do as he wants, not even protesting as Robin drags his nails up the line of his spine as he captures his mouth in another kiss.

Keith arches into the touch, his hips bucking against Robin, and fuck, Robin is already getting hard. He can’t resist sliding that hand on Keith’s ass around, following his waist until he reaches crotch.

“Locksley!” Keith grunts, jerking into the palm suddenly pressed against his dick.

Robin strokes him as best he can through his jeans, enjoying the feel of his erection stiffening. He pulls away after a minute, takes in the image of Keith’s kiss swollen lips and lust darkened eyes, his head thudding against the wall behind him as he revels.

“Come on,” he says finally, his hands falling away. “There’s bound to be a bedroom somewhere around here.”

~ | ~

By the time Killian and Tink come back to the apartment to freshen up for the party, Regina has taken a shower, tried on nearly every dress in her closet, as well as touched up her nails, and done her makeup once only to do it over again. Tink merely raises her eyebrows when Regina steps out of her room, adjusting the hemline of the short red and black dress she’s wearing.

“You look hot,” is all Tink says, and the only sign of gloating is the smirk playing at her lips.

“Ready to go?” Killian asks, perhaps a little confused, but rolling with the punches.

So they head out for Mary Margaret’s house party, and Regina barely listens as Tink and Killian chatter, too distracted by the nerves rattling in her stomach. She feels like she’s walking into the lion’s den, at risk of being devoured at any moment, and she hates it. She’s supposed to be more fearless than this, and yet she’s been guided by fear the moment she decided to kiss Robin that very first time.

The first thing she does upon arrival is seek out the bar, mentally thanking Mary Margaret for having such a nicely stocked supply for her friends (and all the friends of friends, God, this party is packed. How is she ever supposed to find Robin in this?). She loses sight of Tink and Killian, too dedicated to getting alcohol as soon as possible, and that only makes it worse. As much as she wants to look for Robin, she also doesn’t want to see him, and being alone at the party somehow only makes it all the more awkward for her.

She makes small talk with various people she recognizes, even has a somewhat drawn out conversation with David and a tipsy Mary Margaret that might have been amusing at any other time. Nothing truly helps though, nothing really takes her mind off of Robin, not even the drinks she’s sucking down.

She drinks too fast, doesn’t have enough in her stomach to soak up the alcohol, but she’s not drunk. She’s not, she’s just buzzed enough to feel a bit of her nerves loosening. So what if she hasn’t seen Robin yet? She doesn’t want to see him anyway. She’s even telling Ruby that right now, before she cuts herself off with the realization she needs to pee.

Ruby gives her directions to the nearest bathroom, except Ruby’s had more to drink than she has. There’s a lot of “down the hall, third door on the left. Right. Maybe the second door,” until Regina tells her to not worry, she’ll find it on her own. She doesn’t expect there to be that many options anyway, despite the enormity of Mary Margaret’s house.

She steps into the hallway, surprised to see several doors, and her nose wrinkles as she tries to remember what Ruby said. She ends up trying one doorway, just to see it leads into the kitchen, and another is a linen closet. It leaves her with two doors, and she figures there’s no harm in picking one at random.

It becomes immediately apparent that she’s chosen wrong as the door swings open. She’s stumbled into a bedroom, something that wouldn’t be all that bad if it were empty, but it very much is not. She can hear groans now that a closed door isn’t blocking them out, very telling, obvious groans.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes inadvertently drawn to the couple tangled on the bed together, and she means to look away. There’s just enough light from the hallway filtering through, she can make out the features of the men (it’s definitely two men, the sounds are too masculine). She’s going to look away, but one of those groans is familiar, and he looks familiar too; she’d know Robin anywhere, she thinks.

Her brain stutters and stops, trying to process, and even once it’s started back she’s not sure she’s not hallucinating. Robin, gloriously shirtless (that alone is enough to have her thighs clench with arousal), hovering over another man just as shirtless as he is.

It’s definitely Robin, as his curse is bitten off into her name, an equally surprised, “Regina?”

“Sorry,” she says again, because there is too much going on for her to figure this out right now, and she needs to pee. She ducks out, darts across the hall, into the damned bathroom she couldn’t find before. She does her business quickly, but she hangs out there for a moment, staring at herself in the mirror.

She wanted — and didn’t want — to see Robin, and now that it’s happened, she wishes she’d never come.

A knock at the door has her jumping, only for her heart to immediately sink when she hears Robin’s soft, “Regina? I know you’re in there.”

 _Go away_ she wants to shout back, or yell at him for interrupting her in the bathroom of all places, but she can’t. She doesn’t want to be angry at him, and there’s nothing for her to be angry at him anyway. He hasn’t done anything wrong; she was the one who broke up with him.

“Regina, could you come out of there? So we could talk?”

She bites her lip, grips the edge of the sink until she thinks it might crack. It’s now or never, and she’s not sure whether she wants to step back from the cliff she’s standing on or jump off.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Breathe.

She releases the sink, runs a hand through her hair and over her dress, making sure she looks perfectly put together as her mind races a mile a minute. With the knowledge she can’t stay in the bathroom forever — Robin probably isn’t leaving that door anytime soon, and the only thing worse than the situation she’s currently in would be someone else trying to use the toilet during their little drama — Regina steels herself and yanks open the door separating her and Robin.

“You came out,” he says, almost sounding amazed just to see her.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” she replies. Sass has always been an effective tool in her arsenal and she deploys it now to protect herself.

He looks confused, until she jerks her chin in the direction of the bedroom behind them, and then he _Ohh_ s in soft surprise. He reaches up to rub the back of his neck as he always does when he’s nervous. “Right. About that… I sometimes like to, uh, fool around with other men.”

“You never said,” Regina murmurs, reaching around her middle to cup her elbows. “Even thought you knew I’m…”

Robin shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t think of myself as bi, like you do. I’m just… flexible,” he says. “I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to seem like I was equating my occasional desire to sleep with men to your more genuine desires when it comes to women.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, her world shifting a bit on its axis as she adjusts to this newfound knowledge. Robin likes to sleep with men. Not just fool around — what she walked into was _foreplay_ , not a simple makeout session.

He mistakes her silence though, she can see it in the way he suddenly goes shy as he says, “Does it bother you? That I was with a man earlier?”

“What?” Regina shakes her head, completely confused about how he could think that about her. “No, not at all.”

Robin nods, or rather bobs his head in a sort of half-nod, watching her intently. “Okay,” he says, and then asks, “And what about my being with someone else? Are you bothered by that?”

She’s not ready for that question, and between her surprise over it and the alcohol buzzing in her brain, she takes too long to properly school her expression. It must give her away, because he’s smirking even as she raises her eyebrows at him. “Why would I be bothered by that?” she retorts. She can’t resist adding a jab in the form of, “I broke up with you.”

It doesn’t work, somehow her prickliness doesn’t ever seem to work on him when she needs it to the most. Instead, he’s still smirking at her. “What brings you to the party?” he asks pointedly, chuckling a little when her eyes narrow into a glare. He reaches for her, hesitating only a moment before he coasts his fingers along her arms from biceps to forearms. “What I was doing in there… It was just some fun. Something to take my mind off of you.”

She lets him touch her, realizing how much she’s missed this. Missed him. How gentle he can be, how soft. Thinking about it and drinking in the loose press of his fingertips to her wrists makes her ache, makes her remember why she ended up at this party in the first place.

“Robin, I—” she starts, but her words catch in her throat. She doesn’t know what she wants to say, how much she wants to admit to, how much to reveal about herself. “What I said back in your apartment…”

He’s so fucking patient with her, even now, even when he has no reason to be. He doesn’t rush her, doesn’t say a word as she struggles with her own. He simply watches her, waits for her to find her courage.

“I don’t want to end what we had,” she says, because she doesn’t know how else to say it. “I know I said those things, but I — I _like_ you, Robin, and sometimes I find that… hard to deal with. I’m not _good_ at this, at relationships, and I _want_ to be good at it for you, but I also don’t want to be tied down. There’s so many things I haven’t experienced yet…”

She’s pouring her heart out, letting all the confusing feelings tumble out of her, and he just watches her with that _patience_ , she almost wants to scream at him. She wants him to tell her she’s being selfish, or yell at her for jerking him around, or _something_.

Instead, he smiles and says, “Who says that you have to give up experiences just because I want to date you?”

Regina pauses, frowning at him as she tilts her head. “What?”

“I’m not against trying new things myself, you know,” he tells her, his eyebrows raising in a little tease. “What’s something you’d like to try?”

There are so many things she could say, and yet somehow the first thing out of her mouth is, “I’ve never had a threesome.” Robin’s eyes widen, because he was undoubtedly expecting something else, perhaps something a little tamer, at least.

“Do you want to have one?” he asks, just like that, as if it’s that simple.

And of course she does, she’s said so, didn’t she? But his nonchalant attitude has her gaping at him, mouth hanging open a tad, jaw dropping further as he adds, “Because I’ve never had one either, and it does seem like one of those things to do in college, doesn’t it?”

Regina doesn’t know how to respond to that, her voice gone missing until she finds it, or finds something like it when he says, “What would you say to you, me, and another man? Or did you want another woman?”

She squeaks at that, the only sound she’s able to make at first until she manages a scandalized, “Robin!”

“I guess it is presumptuous of me to think you’d want me there,” he continues as if she hasn’t said anything at all. But he’s smirking at her, like he knows he’s getting under her skin in that way she always enjoys with him.

Indeed, she was thinking of him when she said she wanted to try a threesome. For all of her fear regarding him, she also trusts him so much, and she thinks for something like that she’d want at least one person she knew well in the mix. But to suggest it when they’ve barely even gotten over their fight seems so surreal, so outlandish — but also so _Robin_. Trying to make her comfortable, trying to let her set the boundaries, and her heart tugs a bit with the knowledge that he’s giving so much here.

She’s just admitted how terrified she is, how she doesn’t think she can do a serious relationship, and he’s opening himself back up to her anyway.

“No,” she says, her mouth a little dry with all the thoughts swirling in her head. She’s picturing it now, her and Robin and a mysterious third person, tangled together, naked and passionate. “No, not presumptuous.”

Robin’s teeth bite into his smirk, turning it devilish. “So, man or woman?” he prompts, and her mind shapes the image more definitively.

Her and a woman, kissing while Robin watches, or perhaps Robin is kissing this mysterious woman, but no. It’s tantalizing, but not quite what she wants. The mental image shifts, changes the mysterious person into a man, and it’s so easy to picture Robin on top of a man when she’s already walked into it.

“Man,” she breathes out, her cheeks heating as Robin’s smirk grows impossibly wider.

“That can be arranged, you know,” he says, looking back over his shoulder at the bedroom door. “Keith’s still in there…”

Oh God. He can’t possibly be suggesting what she thinks he’s suggesting.

“What? You mean you want to do it tonight?” she murmurs, nerves jangling in her stomach.

“Only if you want to,” he says quickly, his expression serious as he reassures her. “Always only if you want to.”

Regina chews at her bottom lip, considering. And then, “Do you think he’d be up to it?”

His face goes impish again and he leans in to murmur to her, “Only one way to find out, right?”

He’s right, of course, so she can’t deny it. It has him leaning in closer, softly kissing her cheek, surprisingly tender and soft as he murmurs, “Be right back. Let me talk to him first.”

He disappears back into the room, leaving her in the hallway, and she sags against the wall as she takes in the last few minutes of her life. Somehow she’s gone from fighting with Robin to potentially having a threesome with him. Her mind is spinning with anticipation and disbelief. It’s a lot to process, but despite her pounding heart and jittery nerves, she doesn’t exactly want it to stop just yet.

She doesn’t know how long Robin is gone, but the door opens eventually, Robin peeking his head out and gesturing for her to come in. Regina walks a little stiffly, unable to help feeling a little apprehensive over the situation she’s entering into. 

Keith Nottingham is sitting on the bed, his shirt back on, and he looks about as anxious Regina imagines she does. “Hi,” he says gruffly, perhaps a little put out that she’s interrupting his fun, she wonders.

“Hello.” She’s met him a few times thanks to Robin, but she wouldn’t say they were friends. He didn’t seem to be friends with Robin, really, not until moments ago when she saw Robin with his tongue down Keith’s throat.

The awkwardness is consuming, permeating the air, until Robin breaks the silence.

“So… How do we do this?” he asks, looking at her, as if she has any idea.

“Um. Well,” she says, eyes darting between him and Keith.

“Maybe we need more alcohol,” Keith grumbles, but no, she doesn’t want to be drunk for this.

“I was interrupting earlier,” she says instead, settling her gaze on Robin as her brow furrows. “How about you two… get back to it? And I could watch for a bit, if that’s okay?”

Robin looks to Keith, who shrugs, and then Robin is nodding. “All right then,” he says, gaining that smirk back as he reaches for the hem of his T-shirt. He swaggers over to the bed, walks right over to where Keith is sitting at the edge.

Regina watches, her eyes automatically drawn to Robin’s bare chest, to the lines of his abs and then his back as he approaches Keith. He reaches for him, that gentleness she knows so well in full force as he catches Keith’s jaw in the fingers of one hand.

“What do you say, Nottingham?” he murmurs, just loud enough for her to make it out. “Want to give Regina a bit of a show?”

Keith parts his lips slightly, and Robin must take that as all the permission he needs, because he leans in to press their lips together then.

Regina adjusts her position a bit, wandering into the room and moving around so that she has a good view of them as they kiss. It’s a simple rending and sewing of their mouths so far, not particularly heated or passionate, surprisingly tender considering what they are all about to do. There’s something mesmerizing about watching them kiss, though, at watching Robin slip his tongue into another person’s mouth as he deepens the kiss, and Regina is equal parts jealous and aroused at the sight.

Robin gets bolder, his hand sliding from Keith’s jaw to his hair, and then he’s tilting his head, changing the angle as he presses his mouth in a bit more forcefully. It has Keith letting out a soft, barely noticeable moan, but Regina hears it anyway and it stirs something low in her belly.

For the most part, Keith has seemed content to let Robin take the lead, his hands resting at Robin’s waist, fingers hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. Something shifts, those fingers drawing out and up, skimming along Robin’s spine, chasing a shiver all the way up. He clutches at Robin’s shoulder, at the nape of his neck, and then he’s pulling back, maneuvering up the bed and trying to tug Robin with him.

“Wait,” Robin says huskily, reaching for Keith’s shirt. He removes it first, and then he swoops back in, nipping at his bottom lip and pushing him down onto the bed.

Oh. Well then.

She’s never seen Keith Nottingham shirtless, but she’s a little grateful for the opportunity. He’s well-built, and her eyes linger as Robin hovers over him, propped up on one hand as he eagerly sucks at his tongue, his other hand exploring the expanse of abdomen Regina’s staring at.

He starts to kiss his way down Keith’s jaw, grazes his teeth right along the underside and he positively _groans_ at the sound. Regina’s thighs clench together, everything beginning to go warm and slick now.

Keith’s head lolls back on the pillow a bit, his eyes finding Regina, and they widen, as if he’s forgotten she was there. He must have, because he squirms a bit under Robin, muttering, “This is a little weird,” despite the little gasp Robin manages to draw from him.

Robin looks up from Keith’s neck, glancing at Regina. She can’t see his face when he turns back to him, but she can hear the teasing in his tone as he says, “Not much of an exhibitionist streak?”

“Guess not.”

“Do you want her to join us?” he asks, dipping his head back down, and he’s peppering open-mouthed kisses along the curve of his neck. Teasing, and Regina knows this move, knows the way he’s laving his tongue along his pulse point and following the lines of his throat. “Would that make you feel less stared at?”

Robin sucks then, sure enough to leave a mark, and Keith makes another sinful noise.

“Y-Yeah,” he grunts, though Regina’s not so sure it’s in response to his question or meant to encourage Robin to continue.

“Mmm,” Robin hums against his skin, not letting up yet, not until Keith’s hips buck a bit, a gasp strangling in his throat. When he finally pulls back, Keith exhales heavily, and fuck, this shouldn’t be so hot.

And then Robin turns to her, smirking that knee-weakening smirk, gesturing for her to join them on the bed. “Come here, gorgeous,” he says, and she automatically moves to follow the order.

Climbing onto the bed in her dress isn’t the easiest of maneuvers, but she forgets the awkwardness when Robin sits up on his knees. He adjusts until he’s next to her, smiling in a softer way as he reaches out to cup her cheek. She leans into the touch, can’t help but welcome the warmth his fingertips inspire in her, and then he’s drawing her into a kiss.

It’s slow, like how he started with Keith, a couple of pecks that lengthen and deepen until her tongue is the one coaxing his open. She’s eager, suddenly hyper-aware that she hasn’t gotten to touch him like this in too long. Regina doesn’t often think of herself as insatiable, but she had certainly gotten used to their trysts happening on the regular, or at least flirty (and downright dirty) texts when they couldn’t see one another in person.

She wants to eat him alive, that desire spiraling in her, flaring up into a sudden inferno. He moans in surprise at her enthusiasm, that hand tangling in her hair as she presses into him, her own hands at his shoulders, gliding down his chest and up his arms only to coast over his spine and repeat the circuit again, again. She revels in the feel of his skin beneath her palms, in the slight ripple of his abs as her nails lightly scrap against him, and she has no idea how she’s survived not touching him.

Robin separates their lips, sucking in air as Regina fuses her mouth to his neck instead, and he gasps softly. “God, beautiful, slow down a bit,” he murmurs, trying to tilt his head down, but she’s got a hand in his hair now, tightening her grip to hold him in place.

It’s her turn to drive him a bit wild, like he did with Keith, and she sucks a hickey just above his collarbone, a tiny show of possession she can’t resist.

“Regina,” Robin says, all breathy for her, and she loves that, hides her smile in the curve of his neck. “We have all night.”

She hums against his skin, tugging at his shoulders until he lets her push him down onto the bed and straddle him. She smirks at Keith, able to see more of him now that she has Robin lying next to him on the mattress, but then she’s turning her attention back to the man beneath her.

“Think you can last all night?” she teases, almost throwing in a saucy wink before she thinks better of it. (She’d like to avoid being teased herself, thank you.)

Robin chuckles, looks a little sheepish as his hands coast along her thighs where her dress has ridden up. “Well... It has been a while since I’ve had you,” he murmurs, watching her as even just the brush of his thumbs against the sensitive inner skin has her shivering. “Maybe not _all_ night.”

“Good thing there’s two of you, huh?” she manages to say, her own voice going breathy as Robin draws sensuous patterns against her legs.

He inhales sharply at that, not bothering to hide his excitement as he says, “Do you think you’ll fuck him, gorgeous?”

“Mmm.” She’s started rocking her hips now, notching them together so she can grind against his growing erection. “Maybe. If he wants to. If you want me to.”

“Fuck yes,” Robin groans, eyes closing tightly as his fingers grip her hips, guiding her into a harder rhythm. “If you want to, I mean, fuck…”

“Uh-huh,” Regina murmurs, and why is she not naked? Why is he not naked? The dress is too tight to pull over her head, damn it, so she stops the delicious friction, reaching back for the tab of her zipper.

Robin makes a soft noise of protest in his throat, but he must realize what she’s doing, and it causes him to smirk. “Wait a minute,” he says, turning his head. “Nottingham, why don’t you help the lady out of her dress?”

 _Oh_.

Keith stares for a moment, and Regina thinks she can identify the apprehension on his face. But she smiles at him, biting her lip in a hopefully sexy manner as she arches an eyebrow at him.

“Well? I could use a bit of help,” she says to encourage him, even pulling her hair over her shoulder so he can see the zip.

He sits up slowly, approaching cautiously as if she might bolt, but her eyes are locked onto Robin’s now. There’s something undeniably sexy about another man going to undress her while Robin watches.

The sound of the zipper’s teeth separating sends a little shiver down her spine, though some of that could be from the air hitting her back as the dress starts to gape. Whatever it is, Robin is still staring at her, and Keith’s fingers are warm where they brush her skin as he eases the zipper down to the end of the track.

Once it’s completely unzipped, Regina turns a bit on Robin’s lap, reaching for Keith behind her until she can catch his mouth. She might as well kiss him before she’s entirely nude in front of him. It’s chaste at first, awkward as they try to find an angle they both like, as they learn one another.

They get it right eventually, tentative smooches becoming something more heated as Keith grows bolder, his tongue brushing against her lower lip. She wants to tease, though, pulls back just enough that she can nip at his bottom lip and then darts her tongue out to soothe the bite. It’s a move that’s always gotten Robin warmed up, and it seems to work for Keith, too, has him moaning low in his throat as she chases the lick with a harder kiss.

“Fuck,” Robin breathes out just as Regina opens her mouth as if to swallow Keith whole, her tongue meeting his and tangling together before sliding into the cavern of his mouth.

Regina breaks the kiss with a naughty chuckle, swiping her tongue over her own kiss-swollen lips. “Yeah, let’s,” she murmurs, confidence mixing with desire in her veins. She climbs off of Robin, standing so that she can take off her strappy heels and wriggle out of her dress.

Both men watch as she peels the dress down, revealing black sheer lace of her strapless bra (while she might not have expected the night to take _this_ turn, she would be lying if she hadn’t hoped things to get at least a little heated between her and Robin) and she smirks as Keith and Robin lick their lips in unison. The thong she’s wearing is just as sheer and lacy, a matching set that has their breathing going ragged as she’s finally standing there, dress puddled around her feet.

“I think it’s your turn now, gentlemen,” she prompts with a raised brow, pointedly looking at their jeans while she’s almost completely nude.

“Yeah?” Robin returns her arched brow with one of his own. “Want to see him undress me now, beautiful?”

She nods, momentarily losing her voice as her mouth goes dry.

Keith is quicker to move over Robin, reaching for the button on his jeans and popping it open with swift fingers. He’s careful with the zipper, mindful of the bulge of his cock, and then he’s shifting back and down, pulling off Robin’s shoes and socks before tugging the jeans off of him. It’s Keith’s turn then, and Robin tugs him back up into a fervent kiss before dropping his hands to Keith’s waist. He kisses and kisses him, takes a little longer to get the jeans off because he’s too busy kissing and touching, but Regina doesn’t exactly mind.

It’s hot, watching them kiss, and though she’s eager to get to the main event, she also wants to enjoy this for as long as she can. So she doesn’t say anything as Robin sucks at Keith’s lip, his jeans undone but still on his hips as they’re too distracted to work them off. Finally, Keith is shoving at them, awkwardly toeing off his shoes, trying to get the denim down his legs.

Robin takes the opportunity to flip them, pushing Keith to his back with a bruising kiss, and then he’s kissing down his chest. Keith groans as Robin leaves open-mouthed kisses along the way, detouring to his nipples and doing things that must electrify him if his reactions are any indication. He gasps and arches, surprising Regina with how sensitive he must be there, his head grinding back as Robin lets go of one nipple only to switch to the unattended one.

“Fuck,” he gasps, fingers clenching and unclenching in the bedding, clenching once more as he breathes out another curse. “Locksley!”

“Mmm?” Robin hums around the nipple he’s teasing, drawing it between his lips and pulling back until it slips free.

“You’re supposed to be taking off his pants,” Regina reminds Robin, smirking when he turns his head and grins at her.

“Just wanted to have a bit of fun, first,” he murmurs, but resumes his downward path nonetheless. He still takes his time, drags his tongue down the line of Keith’s abs, and Regina shivers as she watches Keith squirm under the attention. When Robin reaches his waistband, he pulls off the jeans and divests Keith of his socks, and now they’re all in their underwear.

Robin stays between Keith’s legs, momentarily smirking up at him before bending his head, and somehow Regina is the one gasping as Robin mouths at Keith’s cock through his boxer briefs. Keith grunts, body twitching at the sudden attention, and then moaning as Robin sucks at him more intently.

“Hnnn!” Keith gasps, his hips jerking up to meet Robin’s mouth, and it’s then that Robin hooks his fingers in the waistband of his underwear and tugs.

Once they’re off of him, he spits into his palm and then wraps his fist around Keith’s cock, stroking him in slow pulls. Regina watches, mesmerized, already so wet and she’s not even been touched since she stood up. “Fuck,” she mutters as Robin bends his head, tongue flicking out over the sensitive tip of Keith’s cock, before he laves a line straight down it.

She’s well aware of how talented Robin’s mouth is (her clit tingles with the memory of what that tongue has done to her), but watching him go down on someone else — and a man, no less — has her appreciating his expertise in an entirely different way. He’s just as attentive with Keith as he is with her, sucking kisses back up his cock until he can wrap his lips around it and take him into his mouth properly, slowly sliding down the length until he’s taken as much as he can.

It’s as she’s watching Keith writhe that she realizes maybe she should join in, that maybe she should actually _do_ something, and that propels her to climb back onto the bed. Robin glances up as her weight shifts the bed, but returns his focus to his task as he hollows his cheeks around his mouthful, and Keith’s eyes open for a moment to look at Regina before they’re rolling back into his head.

Regina remembers how sensitive Keith’s nipples seemed before, and so she glides a hand over his chest, tracing swirls into his skin as she works her way toward a nipple. She plays with it at first, drawing over it with a fingertip, before she pinches it between thumb and forefinger and gives a little twist.

“Oh God!” Keith groans, head thrashing on the pillow, one hand gripping tight in Robin’s hair.

“Do you like that?” Regina asks, doing it again and getting another deep, pleasured sound for her trouble. “I thought so.”

Robin chuckles around the dick in his mouth, sliding off of it to say, “You’re such a tease, Regina.”

“Guilty,” she one-shoulder shrugs, and not feeling at all bad about the accusation. “But I could say the same for you.”

“Do I look like I’m teasing right now?” he challenges, eyebrows raised, and returning to his task. He takes Keith into his mouth more quickly now, sucking with a bit more force and moving faster as Keith grunts and moans and writhes, muscles twitching like a livewire as Robin pleasures him.

Regina smirks, keeps her _Guess not_ to herself, and then bends to catch Keith’s mouth with her own. She kisses him as best she can while he’s busy moaning for Robin, before seeking out his nipples once more. Licking makes him twitch some more, back arching, and she discovers that little bites to and around the area triggers the most delicious noises.

“Oh, fuck, fucking _fuck_ ,” Keith babbles, and Regina can’t help her own little moan of pleasure. It’s _hot_ , so fucking hot, and she can feel the slippery slide of wetness between her legs.

Impulsively, she discards her thong, climbing up to the head of the bed and swinging her leg over Keith so that she’s positioned over his chest. “Eat me out?” she suggests, hoping he won’t say no, and thank God, he doesn’t.

He nods, manages a somewhat garbled _Uh-huh_ while he reaches for her, wrapping his hands around her thighs. She lowers herself carefully, bracing one hand on the wall in front of her for balance. She moans at the first touch of his tongue against her, sliding over her in one long flat lick that has her rocking already, trying to follow the movement.

Fuck, this is even better than she expected, as Robin continues to suck him off and he makes these _noises_ , sounds vibrating through her sensitive parts as his tongue swirls around her clit, her entrance.

“Fuuuck,” she mutters, heading bowing forward as she braces both hands on the wall now, bettering her leverage so she can work her hips over his mouth. She rocks and grinds, enjoys the way he changes up his tactics every now and then, going from hard presses of his tongue to softer ones, and somehow it’s those that she thinks might be her undoing. It’s so fucking gentle, a swirl followed by a little flick, and it really is enough to have her moaning for him.

Then when he sucks, she practically keens, one of her hands balling into a fist before she drops it to his head, clutching at him and holding him to her.

“Just like that,” she breathes out, panting, and the bastard changes what he’s doing anyway. He switches back to those hard presses, long drawn out licks from her slit to her clit, and it’s pleasurable, but not focused enough on where she’s so sensitive. She needs more, damn it, a protesting little whine leaving her as Keith refuses to focus on her clit like she wants.

Before she can say anything, his head falls away, a long groan escaping him. “Fuck, Locksley, I’m gonna — _shit_!”

Regina hears a long slow suck, and then Keith’s head thrashes on the pillow, more curses escaping him, and judging by the anger in his tone, it’s not because he came. Indeed, she looks back over her shoulder, and Robin is grinning deviously as he strokes Keith’s dick, too slowly to push him over the edge.

“Fuck you,” Keith scowls, fingers digging into her skin.

“I’d let you, but I left the lube at home,” Robin teases back, and Regina didn’t think she could get any hotter, but _that_ little admission has her flushing.

She knew he had an obsession with _her_ ass, but he’d never tried anything beyond the tip of his finger one time (the one and only time she ever even got close to anal) and he hadn’t said anything that suggested he wanted to receive. Considering her distaste for the act when it involves her own ass, the thought of watching these two fuck like that has her biting her lip, more than a little disappointed it seems that it’s off the table for the evening.

Keith grumbles something unintelligible between her thighs, before he returns his attention to her, licking at her with considerably less enthusiasm than a moment ago. No matter, though, because Robin is kissing his way up Keith’s stomach, something Regina only becomes aware of as he shifts on the bed to nip at the curve of her ass. He follows that with a trail of open-mouthed kisses up the line of her spine, ending at her neck.

Instinctively she turns her head to meet him, welcoming the kiss gladly, moaning as his tongue sweeps into her mouth. “Robin,” she whispers against his lips, “I want to fuck him.”

Keith lets out an eager moan against her sex.

~ | ~

Robin pulls back and grins at her, his eyebrows raised. “Do you now?” he asks, more than a little impressed at her boldness. Regina isn’t someone he necessarily associates with shyness, and while she’s certainly been vocal about her pleasure in the bedroom, she’s never quite so bold.

“Yeah,” she breathes, eyes fluttering as Keith must do something particularly good with his mouth, and for a moment, Robin has a tiny bit of jealousy over his position.

“Far be it for me to get in the way,” he murmurs, pecking her on the lips before scooting back, giving her some space to maneuver.

She raises up off of Keith’s face and crawls down the length of his body so that she’s sitting by his hips. “Condom?” she asks, looking at the two of them.

Oh, right.

“Wallet,” Keith gasps out, tongue peeking out to swipe over his bottom lip as Regina takes his dick in her hand. She’s just slowly jerking him, but Robin knows how good she is with her hands, at working those fingers over a man in the right way to drive him to the brink. “Fuck, baby, careful…”

“I’m not your baby,” Regina mutters.

Robin chuckles as he gets up, finding Keith’s jeans on the floor and digging for his wallet. Retrieving the foil packet, he returns to the bed just in time to watch Regina bend her head, her mouth lowering over Keith’s cock. When he moans at the feel of her lips wrapping around him, Robin says, “She’s got a great mouth, doesn’t she?”

Keith _Uh-huh_ s, the most coherent response he seems capable of making.

He can sympathize, considering all the times he’s been in that very position. God, her mouth is a marvel, and that twinge of jealousy returns.

Regina stops long enough to take the condom, opening it up and quickly sliding it down Keith’s cock. She wastes no time in straddling his hips, reaching down to position him and then dragging him through her folds, coating him in her wetness.

Robin’s sure she must be soaked, more than ready, considering she had Keith’s mouth moments ago. He knows how talented he is, too, and for a second, Robin isn’t sure whether he wants Regina’s or Keith’s mouth more. He mulls over his options, taking his own dick in hand and stroking himself as Regina sinks down, taking Keith inside of her with a moan low in her throat.

“Mmm, fuck,” she breathes out once he’s sheathed fully in her, his hands at her hips, holding her steady.

He can see the tension in Keith, in the strain of his neck and the way his fingers flex against Regina’s skin. And Robin knows what it’s like to be inside Regina, how fucking perfect she feels, especially when she’s as turned on as she is.

Regina starts to lift up, a slow drag until only the tip of his cock remains, and then she’s dropping back down, just as slow and tortuous.

It’s so bloody sexy Robin thinks he might come just from watching them.

He restrains himself, drops his hand away and moves closer, bending down to reach Keith. He kisses him, hard and hot, fucking his tongue into his mouth in the same measured rhythm Regina is using.

“God,” Regina gasps, and Robin glances up to see her hand buried in her own hair, the other at her own breast, tweaking her nipple, her hips moving faster now. “This is so hot…”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs while Keith moans in agreement.

“So fucking good, Regin _ahh_!” Keith’s neck rolls, his body jerking a bit as she slams down onto him, taking him in harder passes.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Robin whispers, mesmerized as she leans back, changing the angle and oh, that’s the one, it must be because the sound she lets out is positively pornographic. “That’s the spot, hmm?”

“Uh-huh, oh _fuck_ yes.” Her voice is a high-pitched whine, moans tumbling from her lips, and Robin can’t resist anymore. He climbs behind her on the bed, fitting between Keith’s knees, and reaches around Regina so that he can play with her breasts. Her breath catches in her throat at his touch, at the way he bats away her own hand in favor of his own fingers grasping and twisting the hardened peaks.

“Fuck, I never thought sex with you could get any hotter,” Robin mutters to her, breathes it into her ear as he glides one hand down her torso. He finds her clit, rubs circles against it just like she likes, and she shudders in his arms, not coming yet, but so close already. “But this might just be the hottest experience I’ve ever had,” he finishes his thought, catching her mouth with his, swallowing her groan.

The kiss is sloppy, Regina can’t sustain it, especially as she gasps out, “Gonna, oh God, gonna come,” and she’s bouncing now, pitching forward and grinding, circling her hips, arching into Robin’s touch even as she fucks Keith.

“Yeah, come for us, beautiful, let him feel you,” Robin urges, panting as if he were the one being taken right now, he’s so eager to see it, to see her fall apart on another man’s cock. He didn’t expect to find this so arousing, so fucking sexy, but God, it is, it easily is, and he can’t wait for his turn.

Regina cries out, a strangled shout that he’s glad she didn’t muffle in time; they’ve all forgotten that they’re at a party in another person’s house, desecrating a bed that doesn’t belong to them. Really it just makes the situation hotter, knowing they’re having this absolutely sordid affair under everyone attending the party’s noses. Robin hopes they’ve enjoyed the show if they’ve heard anything. God knows _he’s_ enjoying it right now as Keith grunts, pulling Regina down hard on his cock as he comes, jerking and shivering beneath her.

Fuck.

Everything is still for a moment as Keith and Regina pant, recovering from their orgasms, and Regina, bless her, fresh off her climax she’s climbing off of Keith and turning to him.

“Feeling neglected?” she asks, but she kisses him before he can answer.

“No, not at all,” he tells her honestly once she’s released his lips. His breath stutters in his throat, though, because she moves from his lips to his jaw, lightly scraping her teeth over his stubble. She doesn’t stop there, not even as he continues, “I very much enjoyed watching you two.”

Regina smirks against his skin, somewhere around his collarbone. “Be that as it may,” she says, gripping his shoulders, urging him down on the bed. “I think you’re due some attention.”

God, she’s amazing, he has enough time to think that before she’s descending on him, wrapping that fantastic mouth right around his straining cock. He’s groaning immediately, so fucking turned on that it’s not going to take much, and as wonderful as her mouth is, he’s not sure this is how he wants to come. So he bites his lip, runs football stats in his head as she sucks at him, trying to keep his mind off the pleasure.

He can’t resist reaching down, one hand burying in her hair, God he loves her hair, loves her mouth, loves — _fuck_ , so good, and his eyes are shut tight, leaving him completely unprepared for the feel of Keith’s lips on his skin. He starts at his neck, ghosting kisses down the line of his throat, down the planes of his chest and detouring to a nipple.

Robin’s not particularly sensitive there, but everything about this has him more hyperaware than usual, so even something as simple as Keith’s teeth scraping over his nipple has him gasping and arching. Especially when Regina is focusing on the head of his dick, tongue flickering over the tip.

He moans, something that might be Regina’s name, or Keith’s, or might not be words at all. “Stop,” he tries, because he wants to be inside of her, wants to feel her around him after so many days without her. “Regina, please,” he begs, unashamed at how badly he needs her.

She takes him into her mouth, slowly, patiently, hollowing her cheeks around him and Robin babbles curses as he feels the tip of him nudge the back of her throat. She holds there for several seconds before pulling back just as carefully as she took him in. When he slips free of her lips, she meets his eyes, smirking at him as her tongue swipes over her swollen lips.

“What do you want, Robin?” she asks, even as she rises over him, her thighs bracketing his hips, that wonderful wet heat of her sliding over his erection.

“You,” he moans, hoping she takes pity on him as she grins down at him, slowly rolling her hips.

“Do you?” she murmurs in a tone of pure evilness, hands braced against his chest as she drags her pussy over him at a snail’s pace.

“Fuck, yes, Regina _please_. I need to be inside you,” he outright whimpers. He’d promise her anything she wanted, no matter how ridiculous the request might be if she’d just _fuck him_. “Fuck me, beautiful, God, I wanna feel you, I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so long…”

“Mmm, I’ve missed you too,” she breathes out, barely a whisper, he almost has to strain to hear it over the blood pounding in his ears. “Missed having this—” she grinds against him particularly hard, drags her clit right over him and _fuck fuck fuck_ “—inside me.”

Robin groans in frustration, because she still hasn’t taken him inside her yet, despite saying that she’s missed him. She’s such a bloody tease sometimes, it’s a wonder he’s ever survived sleeping with her.

There’s a moment where Regina stops moving, simply hovers over him, and Robin holds his breath. And then she speaks, “We’ve forgotten something.”

He looks at her, confused, cannot imagine what they possibly could have forgotten and she’s raising a brow at him.

“Condom,” she says as if it were obvious, and Robin groans for a reason entirely unrelated to pleasure.

Keith only had one in his wallet, but Robin has some, he always kept them on hand because of Regina. It’s not a big deal, not really, but it’s a hassle considering his wallet is somewhere on the floor. He’s about to look at Keith, to ask him to find him one before he explodes, but then Regina is chuckling.

“Robin, I’m kidding,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss him softly, completely at odds with the heat of the moment before. “Let’s go without.”

And _that_ is a big deal, one that has him actually asking, “Are you sure?” because she’s always been so insistent about it. Especially because they weren’t officially together.

“Positive,” she says, reaching down and wrapping her fingers around his cock. “I want to feel _you_.” With that, she positions him so that the tip slips inside (she’s soaked, so ready for him, more than just the tip of him slides in), he releases that held breath in a shuddering exhale, fingers pulsing on her hips, blood pumping through him, and fuck, this is not going to take long. Not at all.

Even she seems momentarily taken aback by how amazing it feels, her own breath rushing out of her, her teeth catching her lip before she plunges down, impaling herself with a shout.

“Fuck!” Robin bites down hard enough on the inside of his cheek that he tastes blood, everything in him tensed to stop his orgasm, fuck, she feels better than he remembers, feels so bloody good without the condom between them that he’s almost out of tricks to hold off for her. “Regina, oh, fuck…”

She waits, holds absolutely still for a moment, knowing he’s too close, so close, and he wants to make her come. Wants to hold out for her, and there’s no way, he’s not going to make it, fuck…

“Slowly, gorgeous, slowly,” he murmurs, voice tight, his hand moving from her hip to between her legs, his thumb rubbing at her clit. “Wanna make you come first.”

Regina hums, moving in methodical circles, following the press of his thumb. “You feel… Mmm, feel so good,” she whispers, and no, he needs her not to speak. Not in _that_ voice, that vulnerable sex voice that gets him so fucking hard, so goddamned close to coming.

“You too, fuck, you too,” he tells her, adding, “Just focus, babe, just feel it.”

She whines a little, and nods, and biting down on her lip and moaning for him as she rocks her hips back and forth, circling, circling.

“That’s it, just like that,” Robin mutters, hoping if he distracts himself with talking, he can hold off. He’s determined to make her come, to feel her coming around him again.

The bed shifts, Keith maneuvering down his body, and God, Robin had almost forgotten there was a third person there, so focused on Regina, but he’s moved now to touch her. He cups her breasts, kneads them, has her moaning as he bends his head to take a nipple in his mouth. Robin thinks this just might be what he needs to get him through this, a little helping hand, someone else riling Regina up along with him.

It’s working, he can feel her walls fluttering around him, gripping him tighter, and bless, Regina never takes too long to get to a second orgasm. Already she’s circling her hips faster, switching to a more grinding rhythm instead of slow circles, and Robin sits up then, pulls her more into his lap.

Keith gets dislodged in the process, but Regina doesn’t seem to mind, her arms wrapping around his neck as she adjusts to the new position. It’s different, has Robin pressed more against her G-spot, has her panting in his ear, little moans and bitten off whimpers as she kisses his neck, his shoulder.

“Right there,” she gasps, nails digging into his skin, and Robin changes pace now, starts fucking into her a bit more forcefully, faster, those whimpers turning into cries as he takes her harder. “Oh yes! Fuck! _Robin_!”

When she comes around him, it’s like coming home, like every other cliche about _rightness_ that Robin’s ever heard. He follows her three thrusts later, grunting, “Regina — love — _God_ so good.”

He flops back onto the bed, Regina falling with him, and for a moment, he holds her, still inside of her until he begins to soften. He’s barely aware of Keith getting off the bed and gathering his clothes.

“I’m, uh, just gonna see myself out,” Keith says, earning a sleepy little hum from Regina and a grunt of acknowledgement from Robin. As he opens the door, he adds, “Thanks for the memories. We should do it again sometime.”

Robin chuckles, vaguely waving with his hand in a _get out of here_ gesture. Regina seems to have barely heard him, too busy adjusting so that she’s off of him and on her side, curled up against him in that cuddly way she gets after sex. It never usually lasts long, so Robin has his arm around her, intent on soaking it in as long as he can.

“We should leave, too,” she mutters, sounding entirely like the prospect is unappealing to her.

“We can stay a little while longer. The party is still going on,” Robin says, and it’s true, he can still hear the music and raucous, drunken laughter. Fewer voices than at the height of the party, but certainly a handful of people, probably most of their friends. “We could stay the night, even. Mary Margaret won’t mind, I’m sure.”

“She might if she knew what was leaking onto her sheets right now,” Regina grumbles, her nose wrinkling in that adorable way of hers.

Robin chews on the inside of his cheek to resist the urge to dot a kiss to the tip of that scrunched up nose. Instead, he decides on being helpful, releasing her long enough to roll over to the bedside table. The ever thoughtful Mary Margaret has, of course, made sure to have a box of Kleenex in (every) the room. Plucking a few sheets from the box, he hands them to Regina.

“Not as good as a towel, but something to keep you from worrying about sheets during our afterglow,” he teases, and Regina sighs exasperatedly, but takes them anyway. Once she’s cleaned and disposed of the tissue in the small trash can, he wraps her back up in his arms.

She lets him pull her in, her head pillowing on his chest with a hand resting there, too. He can’t resist dropping a kiss to her hair.

“Regina,” he starts, worried about scaring her off, but unable to keep it in any longer, not when they’re like this. “I really missed you. Being apart, not seeing you was… insanely difficult for me.”

She’s silent, so still he almost thinks she’d fallen asleep, but then she sighs. “I missed you, too,” she whispers, as if she’s afraid someone would overhear her confession. “Not just the sex, but the… everything else. The breakfasts in your apartment. Working with you in chem. The texts you’d send me in the morning… I missed… I missed all of that.”

Robin takes that in, swallowing around the words sticking in his throat. “Do you… We didn’t really talk before we did this whole threesome thing. Do you want to be… official?”

He’s actually afraid of her answer, afraid that she’s going to say no, she still doesn’t want to do relationships, but Regina clutches him a little closer to her, tipping up her chin so that she can look at him.

“Yes.” She almost looks surprised by her certainty, but then she’s saying it again, with even more confidence. “Yes, I want to be official. And exclusive.”

Robin smiles, his heart soaring, and it completely ruins his joking, “Oh, I don’t know about that, what would I tell Keith?”

“If you’d like a repeat of tonight with him, or anyone else, I don’t care so long as I’m there, too,” Regina says, completely serious, and then she’s leaning in, kissing him softly. “Robin…”

He freezes, locked into place by the look in her eyes, so calm and certain in this moment that it takes his breath away.

She pauses, her lips slightly parted, and then she’s saying, “Thank you for being patient with me. For giving me another chance.”

He shouldn’t say it, it’s too heavy, but he can’t resist letting her know a fraction of what he feels for her. So he cups her cheek in his hand, stroking the apple of it with his thumb. “I’d give you a second, third, fourth, fifth — however many chances that you might need, Regina.”

Regina inhales softly, her eyes flicking away from his, suddenly shy. “Thank you,” she murmurs again, before she ducks her head in and kisses him.

One day, he’ll let her know the depth of his feelings for her. One day. But for now, he’ll enjoy this: lazy sated kisses, and the way her leg slides over his thigh, her head resting in the crook of his neck as her fingers weave between his own. He’ll draw nonsensical patterns over the top of her arm, simply to feel the softness of her skin, until he falls asleep with her beside him.

And then tomorrow, he’ll go back to his apartment with her, and he’ll fix her breakfast.


End file.
